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“Be nice to me,” I threaten, stabbing my finger into his stomach. It bounces right off him. Those are some fierce abs.
“I’ll be real nice to you,” he whispers.
Shaking my head at him, I stick my tongue into my cheek to mask my amusement.
Don’t respond. Don’t give him ammo. Ignore it.
I don’t want to smile, but it’s my stupid fucking physiological response to grin at attractive men. He knows exactly which buttons to push. I hop on my counter and try to start a conversation as a distraction.
“Where are you from originally?”
“Outside of Bangor.”
“Maine, right?” I’ve always wanted to see that part of the country.
“No, Hawaii?”Tool.“What about you?”
“Seattle.”
“Huh. We’re from opposite corners. Feels a little weird.”
“Feels a littleappropriate,” I correct.
“Do you have any family that lives there?”
“Yeah, my mom and stepdad.”
“You close with them? And what was that stuff about your bio dad the other day?” he questions.
“Yeah, I’m close. My dad didn’t treat my mom well when I was younger. Then one day he just left. Early on, things were hard, but life got so much better for all of us, my mom was much happier. Before I moved to Vancouver for college, she started dating Rich, my stepdad. He’s a really nice guy, fell in love with my mom and is good to her. Smart dude too. He’s an astrophysicist. How fucking cool is that?”
“Pretty fucking cool.”
“What about you? Are you close with your family?”
“Well, you already know about my sister. My parents and I were close. My mom died of cancer when I was in middle school. Then right after I started college, my dad had a heart attack. I was already here at the U of M. There was some money left for Anna and me, the rest went to my stepmom. I used mine to move Anna out here with me. My sister blew through her inheritance, as I’m sure you can imagine. She was using back home. I thought if I could distance her from the people who influenced her, then she might get better. But you know how well that turned out.”
“I’m sorry you went through that. That’s a lot of pressure for a kid.”
“Sounds like both of us dealt with some pretty high-pressure shit when we were younger.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
He leans back on the upper cabinets. “Are you still in contact with your stepmom?”
“No, after Dad died and she got her settlement, she was out of the picture.”
That’s cold. Rhys seems tight lipped, so I’m not going to ask more.
The timer goes off and I hop down to pull out the heavy dutch oven radiating heat.
“This is my favorite part.” I let out a small squeal. “You’re going to do what’s called punching down the dough. You’re essentially just deflating it. This releases carbon dioxide and helps relax the gluten. Then when you’re done, fist the dough—”
His eyebrows raise, and he gives me a suspended blink. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Rhys.” I stifle my laugh. “Fist the dough and form it into a ball.”
He holds his hands up, palms facing me. “Just wanted to clarify.”
